Streetlight
by JLvE
Summary: One-shot. Andrea walks out on dinner with Miranda and a man.


**A very short one-shot. I can't seem to focus on my other story. This came out instead.**

**Do own nothin'. **

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Miranda walked outside. With angry movements she grabbed her coat by the lapels and clutched it together, the wind was razor sharp and quite chilly. Crossing the street was difficult, apparently traffic was fast around here even at evening time, and it only made her more angry, being kept from her purpose. Why was Andrea god forbidden standing there? In this weather nonetheless. Now was not the time to play a 4 year old child. A very stubborn child too. She made short, pinning steps to let her presence known. The clear click-clack of her heels on the pavement until she was about a metre away.

'Why are you standing here Andrea?'

No answer, just a shiver running through small shoulders and the gaze fiercely set on the canal that divided the two sides of the street. A moment of silence.

'Get inside. Now.' A low growl. It was an order. She was royally fed up by this situation.

No shudder this time, but the cringing of shoulders. And clutching hands at the rail of the stone wall that prevented small children from falling in the water. Apparently Andrea was not going to move. Not going to speak too. _For heavens sake! _This would not do.

Taking a deep breath through her nose Miranda walked closer. 'Andrea.'

A soft strangled sound. Miranda stepped forward.

'Andrea talk to me.' It was a mix of concern and irritation.

More sniffling. And the continuing of grabbing the rail.

_Enough is enough. _'Good grace Andrea!'She putted herhands at Andrea's shoulders, which caused more shivers, and pressed Andrea into her. The younger woman's back against her and her head on Miranda's shoulder, eyes closed but up to the sky where tiny raindrops mixed with tears. Exposing the emotions so well written on Andreas face.

She held her dearly.

Andrea cried. Mostly silent, like there was no sound that could represent her pain. She cried and got kept by Miranda, not talking about the feelings that were showed. Only communicating through body language. Andrea breaking down. Miranda holding strong. There was no need to mention what was clear as day.

Slowly Miranda rubbed Andrea's arms. She didn't need to look at her to know the woman was in pain. She had known. For weeks now Andrea had been in pain, evidently letting it slip to the surface. She saw it in her eyes, her movements, the choice of words. And even before that she had sensed something, on a more hidden level. Miranda had wilfully ignored it. The consequences for such a conclusion beyond her control, and she did not like the losing of control. Acknowledging it would force her to research her own motives. She hadn't been ready for that either.

But ready or not: the breaking point had been reached and they had to deal with it. At a relatively uncommon moment. They were at dinner with Rodney from finance. The was an arrogant prick but very competent in his work. And more: on her side instead of Irv's. Something she actively had to invest in. These next days would prove to be crucial, _again,_ that pathetic little man seemed to make it tradition to try a coupe on Runway's busiest week. She would need all recourses she had. Including Andrea.

Mostly Andrea. Andrea her everlasting rock. Andrea her beautiful, gorgeous, warm safe keeper. The woman who could suck and suck up every punch, every kick and verbal attack and recover from it almost without scratches. She had taken her for granted. She saw it now. Nobody is without limits, not even her big-hearted second assistant.

'Please talk to me Andrea.' Miranda murmured, turning her head towards those beautiful dark brown locks. 'Why are you standing here?'

Silence. Then, a shaky breath and a tiny voice. 'I want it to stop.'

A little dug from nails in her arms. Sharp, but too much like a caress to be cutting: 'Very eloquent. Andrea, define 'it'.'

'I don't know.'

Miranda sighed. They started to become damp by the rain even though Andrea's body was warm pressing into her. She decided to wait exactly two minutes. Then she would leave. In a conversation a silence for longer than 0,2 seconds was determined as long. She considered herself patient.

With a flat voice Andrea continued. 'Everything hurts. Whether I move forward or backwards. I don't know if the pain of seeing you or the pain of leaving you is worse. It's is just this… this… every dinner. With every next potential mr. fourth husband…' Andrea swallowed. 'They all pursue you.'

Another silence. Miranda let the words sank in. 'Still, you remain at my side.'

'Sometimes I wish I don't.'

It didn't surprise the older woman.

'I'm so empty Miranda. Your work is to find beauty. You surround yourself with it in your office. Still you endure this stream of… men. Those Rodneys that-'

'Rodney is business.'

'Everything is business to you! I'm business.'

'You're my employee.'

'Yes.' More tears flowed. Miranda absently stroked Andreas arms again expanding the area with one hand towards Andrea's hair. Tangling her fingers through it. Minutes with only thoughts.

'You consider to take notice.' _Just like last year._

Andrea hesitated.

'I… need change Miranda. I can't do this any longer.'

Miranda's gaze turned harder. 'One always has a choice.'

'Yes but sometimes the function of those choices disappear the moment the other person does not choose the same.' It sounded exasperated. And tired.

Andrea was correct. It had been Miranda's last attempt to pretend. The cards we open now. And the heaviness of it led her shiver. Still, she kept standing. Savouring the moment of clearness.

That was, until time and coldness made themselves known.

'We need to go inside Andrea.' She threaded her fingers through the soaked tresses one more time. The other arm had been stored around Andrea's waist for a while now. She left it in the middle if they had to go because of business or because they would catch a cold if they kept standing there.

'Okay.' Tension crept back in Andrea's body when she detangled from Miranda and straightened her posture. They stood in front of each other. Miranda with her back to the restaurant, ready to turn around, Andrea in front of her. The younger woman's voice was toneless. 'As what role am I going to follow you?'

'Both.'

They looked at each other. Andrea nodded.

'That is, Andrea, until dinner is finished. Then I want you to give the other one up.'

Andrea cringed. She whispered 'Which one?'

Miranda couldn't hear it because of the traffic noise. 'What were you saying?'

A little louder this time: 'I said which one? My heart or my job.'

Miranda looked a little confused, then looked away. 'That is, of course, up to you to decide.'

She nodded again.

They walked silently to the entrance of the restaurant. They could already hear the noise from the guests inside, and the doorman was gracefully opening the door for them. Before they stepped in Miranda briefly grabbed Andrea's fingers. They were cold, but she caressed them anyway. A long, tender stroke.

'Remember Andrea,' she said softly, 'you can't give up what you've already lost.' And with that they walked inside.


End file.
